Too Damn Close
by TheAriaofSummer
Summary: Her eyes were tired in the harsh light of the guest bedroom, like she'd seen this too many times. The scars were proof. R


**Title:** Too Damn Close

**Disclaimer: **I own Daniella.

**Rating:** PG-13

**A/N: **Based in the Wishverse.

This is a picture of my OC Daniella and Spike.

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Spike blinked, surprised as the Master's human servant slipped her jacket off her shoulders and draped it over the high backed chair. The Master had told her to make their new guest comfortable, as he'd led Drusilla off for a snack. She knew what that meant, and Spike was sure he did too. Old scars marred her shoulders. Short, precise, thin slices disappeared underneath the skin tight, white midriff top. The bites on her neck, shoulders and arms were the least of her problems. Danie paid no attention to Spike, but unclipped her tawny curls to cover her shoulders as she perched herself on top of the dining table. Spike sauntered towards her slowly.

"Someone have a little too much fun with his knives, love?" Danie looked up at him and cocked her head, her big jade eyes not quite matching the smile that played on her lips.

"No, _she _had a little too much fun with her broken glass." Willow. The Master's right hand bint. From her reputation, Spike had the suspicion that the pleated skirt and ivory stockings showed as little skin as possible, not to be enticing, but to cover up more scarring. He began to roll down one stocking slowly, his other hand resting on her knee. He'd meant it to be reassuring, comforting. Humans tended to get twitchy when vampires undressed them. She just blinked. Her eyes were tired in the harsh light of the guest bedroom, like she'd seen this too many times. The scars were proof.

"Mister, what're you doing?" He heard a twinge of Louisiana drawl, and it was the only hint that she was anxious at all.

"Charming accent." He looked down at the jagged, vicious scars that lay hidden under the stocking. Her ran a finger up an especially brutal scar, still pink from healing. "Where'd you get it?" She sighed, reaching to undo his belt. He grabbed her wrist firmly. If he'd wanted what she seemed to hate prolonging, he would have proposed it when he walked in the door. "Where did you get it?" She stared at him blankly.

"The scar or the accent?" Spike, slid her pleated skirt up slowly, begging for a reaction.

"The accent." Her thighs were littered with fang marks and he was tempted to try to count them, old and new.

"Home. You learn real fast to get rid of anything that makes you different here."

"You're human, makes you different whether you like it or not pet." He removed his hands and took off his leather duster, dropping it on the bed. Daniella Montgomery smoothed down her skirt, every inch the proper lady.

"I'm human because I've earned the right to be." He chuckled.

"Sure have, you look like the damn poster child for fangbangers." He heard her shoes click against the concrete softly as she slid off the table.

"If you don't want me anymore, I have things to do." He smirked.

"Clients to do you mean?"

"At least I have a soul." She snapped, slipping her jacket on. Spike laughed outright at her then.

"Defend your integrity all you like, but you're no different from all the other playthings you get locked up with at the end of the night." She stared at him, her jaw clenched tight.

"What do you want with me Mister?"

"Help me hurt Angelus." Danie scoffed at him.

"No, because when you leave me here to rot in this hellhole, I guarantee the only thing I'll have gotten out of this is one less friend." She looked mock thoughtful. "And a few more scar stories." Spike blinked at the fierce outburst of cynical bitterness.

"I can give you freedom, pet." He slid his hands up her slid slowly, lingering over the bare, unmarred skin betwixt her top and the band of her pleated skirt. "I can guarantee that no one bites, touches, _**hurts**_ you, ever again." Daniella brushed his hands away. Proceeding to pull her long tawny curls back into a ballerina-like bun. She then leaned forward, and straightened her rumpled stockings.

She straightened herself to look him flatly.

"So, you want to use me, and in return I get to use you to escape?" Spike softly kissed the fang marks on her neck.

"No one will ever hurt you again." She placed her hands on his shoulders and he stopped, looking up at her.

"I've been spending way too much time with vampires when I consider willingly being used." She walked towards the door, then turned. She was once more the blank, ever dutiful chattel girl. "I'll be retrieving your sire now." She said it before she could tell him yes. Because before he showed her the malicious bit of tenderness, she was about to. She needed to go sit in her cell. Sit with her only friend and remind herself just how precious he was to her. Needed to come to terms with her almost betrayal. Lastly, she needed to avoid him, because she didn't need to hate herself anymore for that 'yes' she almost whispered. Almost was too damn close for comfort.


End file.
